


Mercy Like That of a Mother

by AbbodonAbandon



Category: Death Note, Death Note &a Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, this is a sad fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 23:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12828387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbbodonAbandon/pseuds/AbbodonAbandon
Summary: After Soichiro'a death, Sachiko must deal with the aftermath





	Mercy Like That of a Mother

**Author's Note:**

> I guess it's my calling in this fandom to write angst fluff between Light and his parents. All things considered, things could be worse. Please comment with your opinion, and be sure to check me out on tumblr at @abbadon-abandon to scream to me about Light Yagami

Sachiko had not been expecting the call. She had not been expecting it; she had been dreading it. 

The voice had been calm, robotic, almost, possessing the same inflection that only those dead to another’s tragedy, detached to the degree that this was just another phone call, just another name on the list to be checked off before they left for the day. 

The words still rang in her ears. “We regret to inform you that your husband, Soichiro Yagami, is deceased.” She had not received the first call, the one calling her to the hospital, if there ever was one. The only warning she had was of a day earlier, of her husband coming to her house, no, their house, the house that he barely inhabited, and holding her in his arms and urging her that “Everything is going to be alright”. 

Even then, she knew he was lying. 

And yet, she had accepted it. Calmly, even, as she watched him walk out of their door, watched him wave goodbye to her. Watched him smile, but not enough to reach his eyes. Eyes that had dared not meet hers as he had promised that he would be fine. 

Sachiko sat down, in the chair beside the phone. She had to think, about the funeral, about Sayu. About Light. He hadn’t called yet, and somewhere in the back of her mind, in the part of her that she pushed down, the jealous part, the bad mother, she wondered why he hadn’t called her. That he should have been the one to call her. 

But Light… Light was an adult. He had other things to worry about, case things, important things, more important than comforting the sad old woman who was his mother.

So Sachiko stood. Sayu was in bed, too depressed and empty and hopeless to bear staying up, and Sachiko wouldn’t bother her. Not with this. Sayu had already broken, and Sachiko didn’t want to see her break further. Somehow, she hoped she wouldn’t have to be the one to tell her. She knew the hope was futile.

With Light and Sayu safely at the back of her mind, she began to clean. People would be here soon, to console her and to help with the preparations. She didn’t want to give them another reason to pity her.

She had been bent over the floor, sleeves rolled up tightly, lost in her work. So Sachiko had not been expecting the knock. But she had been hoping for it.

Two raps, quick and sharp but somehow holding a hint of hesitation. Light. Her Light.

Sachiko hadn’t known she’d been able to stand that quickly. Her knees worked like springs, propelling her upwards and to the door, her fingers fumbling over the lock and pulling it open, swinging the door wide to reveal Light. Hunched over. Undried tears tracked his face.

For a while, he didn’t look at her. Then, “May I come in?” Timid. And distant. Like a stranger asking for entrance.

“Please do.” She breathed, stepping aside. Light quietly entered the house.

“You must hate me.” His voice cracked. Sachiko winced, her hands shaking with the urge to hold him. But she stood back.

“Why? I know you haven’t been here a lot, but that’s because of the case. I can’t fault you for that.” As she looked at him, looked at his slightest of trembles as he couldn’t even look her in the eye, she knew she couldn’t. She wasn’t cruel. 

“Because it’s my fault, ok? It’s my fault he’s dead.” The words slipped from gritted teeth. They sounded painful. Like glass shards against his tongue.

“Light. Please, why don’t you come with me to the couch? It’s much more comfortable there, and your feet won’t hurt so much.” Gently, she lead him over, allowing him to slump down off of her and curl away.

She draped a blanket over him, the red and downy one that she had used whenever he was sick, before she sat beside him. Somehow, he had crept into her arms. She didn’t push him away, only stroked his back and hair as he sobbed. 

“It’s not your fault.” She spoke this quietly; he seemed too fragile in that moment for anything louder than a whisper. 

“It is.” There was no response to her stroking. Except for Light to curl further in on himself.

“You were doing your job. You couldn’t have done anything else. Thinking like this will get us nowhere.”

“Not true. Could’ve… Should’ve… My fault, Mama.” He brokenly sobbed into her chest.

“Light?” It had been years since he had called her that. 

“‘S my fault!” He wailed back. Tremors shook his body as he burrowed deeper. 

So Sachiko rocked him. Gently, like when he was small and had just woken from a nightmare, before any of this had happened. 

“It’s not your fault. You did your job just like you were supposed to. Your father- It was just his time. Just his time, no matter how much we wish differently.”

At those words, Light broke. Energyless, lifeless, he slumped in her arms. Limp and unmoving. His sobs, like the rest of him, died to a dull whimper.

When it seemed the whole world had quieted, that the whole house had settled itself into a state of uneasy rest, Light spoke. “I’m sorry.” The words were devoid of enough emotion to make Sachiko shiver.

“Please don’t be, Light.” It seemed all of her reasoning had been for naught.

“N-no.” As if shaking himself from a haze, Light looked up at her. His amber eyes were sharp yet glassy. For a moment, Sachiko wondered if she would ever know what truly went on inside of him. “I’m sorry for making you have to comfort me when I should be the one comforting you. He was y-your husband and-” His words broke into a feverish fervor before Sachiko cut him off. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m just happy to have you in my arms again.” Unbidden, a thought struck her, and although she tried to push it away, she knew she would have to face it. “Are you going to leave again?”

A weak smile was on Light’s face. Somehow, he had managed to compose himself. “The task force needs me, Mom.”

Light was standing now, straightening up and untangling himself from her and all at once she could feel her baby boy, her sweet son, in that moment all she had left, slipping from her grasp. 

“Can’t you stay the night? You can stay in your old room, or stay in my room, or- or with Sayu and-” 

Light silenced her with a kiss to the forehead. “No, Mom. If I stay… Do you really think I’d be strong enough to leave again?” A certain warmth, a certain sadness, filled his eyes as he regarded her softly. 

Sickness curled in Sachiko’s stomach as she watched Light straighten.The veneer from before, of a young man and not her son, not her baby, returned as he brushed away the dust from his jacket. 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, ok?” He didn’t look her in the eyes as he said this. 

Sachiko nodded, as if she accepted it, and stood to kiss him goodbye. Then Light walked out the door, head bowed against the cold. He didn’t look back.


End file.
